Hushed Willows panacea

There.

The moment shone in breathtaking clarity. Their movements, slow-motion. The sounds of the fight, muffled and distorted, as if he had been cast beneath the seas that churned not so far from the Watch. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as if he had drained the draught of the berserkr, spurning him forward once more as the cat descended upon the haustkonan.

Teeth latched, found purchase among all that muscle in the crux of the hellcat's neck, the pressure and surprise of his bite forcing the release of his comrade-in-arms. The creature would struggle, of course, claws catching the man's hide briefly. And still, he held true, biting down down down, shaking his head as he would were his prey smaller. Red stained gold and cream, stained teeth yellowed long before by blood, stained the snowed upon ground that they battled upon, the chest of the man that fought.

In the end, the body fell limp, whether by sufocation or loss of blood. Drengr through and through, the Nordic wolf gave a final shake of his head to worry and tear the jugular further before releasing the vice-like grip of his jaws. To the red snow, the body fell, Stjornuati's heated breath pluming through the air as he took a moment to collect himself, stepping upon the body with a solid paw before sending up a call, strong and victorious.